Firefly
by Twiggy Boredom
Summary: Sephiroth wants to catch the firefly that stole Genesis' heart, but Genesis offers him only a poem and cryptic words. With believing that the General could not share such affections, he avoids letting him know who it is that he treasures so dearly.
1. Part I

**Author's Note: **Sephiroth/Genesis defines perfection. Do not argue with me about it – I have a horde of reasons why it is classified so.

**Firefly**

"…To aid a heart that is so broken, a mind so futile of affection, a shell so barren of life and a soul bathing in fright. Despise the hours in mine empty shell. To heal my mind, my heart – oh do be filled. Erase this empty plain oh sweet firefly, for I yearn not to bathe in fright, but forever in thy eternal light."

"Is that an original?"

I snapped my beloved book closed, a gentle smile pulling on my cerise lips as I took my eyes to the man before me. His long silver hair glowed under the early morning sunrise, bright orange and yellow hues dancing across his features as he took in the sunlight through his pale skin. His gloved hands held onto the iron edge of the balcony as he watched the Goddess bring her luminous jewel to a slow rise beyond the horizon. I could write poetry on this man, yet he would have utterly no clue that I would write it about him.

"Hmph…Did you enjoy it?" I asked, approaching him from my position against the wall. We were in the training room, its usual hologram in play; the mesmerizing sunrise before us remains nothing, but a beautiful illusion.

"Well…If I were to say I disliked it, you…wouldn't be anything, but angered," drifted his deep voice, floating around us in the gentle breeze that wafted in the air, how this happens, remains a mystery.

I chuckled low in my throat, tucking '_Loveless_' into a fold within my red coat as I reached the balcony and extended my arms to the rail, resting my hands on the smooth, cold metal which bit my palms through my leather gloves.

"Are you trying to tell me that you disliked it?" I questioned, gazing out into what many would suggest a sunrise of romance that would make even the strongest of men weak and ensnared by the warm, colourful rays.

His smile caught my attention from the corner of my eyes. A smile he gives is always small and fragile, but genuine – it is always genuine like the golden and silver jewel of the Goddess.

"Who is the 'sweet firefly' whose light you wish to bathe in?"

His question caught me off guard. I gaped up at him, not knowing what to say and I prayed in the recesses of my mind that he would not turn his head ever so slightly to the side to see the face of shock upon mine.

I hesitated for a moment, my body becoming rigid as I searched for something to take place of the inappropriate answer.

"It is…uh…" I looked away from him, my cheeks slowly growing warmer with each passing moment.

'_Loveless_' prodded at my side and the most simple of all excuse sprung into my mind. I inhaled deeply, trying to force my hammering organ to slow down its frantic pace and to clear my throat for my voice to be spoken without a crack nor waver.

"I-it is simply a poem. It has neither meaning nor…purpose."

"Oh…Would you say that about '_Loveless_'?"

"'_Loveless_' is a play."

"But would you say it has meaning and a purpose?"

"Of course it does."

"Then why doesn't that poem?"

I hesitated. I know this man as well as the back of my hand, but I do not stand for such clichés so I will say that I know Sephiroth like '_Loveless_'. Everything about him that I know of is like poetry, like a play of sorts, with tricky language enthralled with vast imagery and similes tying with metaphors to describe both beauty and rapture that this one man possesses. He is like no other man, like how '_Loveless' _is like no other play. Sephiroth longs for decent solid answers and '_Loveless_' longs for one too. Perhaps that is why there is no fifth and final Act. Perhaps it was lost, because it was never completed, never made. Then perchance it would be a blank and empty canvas for me to paint a scene of stars and fright, of death and might.

Just like Sephiroth, '_Loveless_' wants its answer. Its ending to its fairy tale. Then…would being so much like '_Loveless_' would Sephiroth be my one other canvas to complete?

I found myself gazing up into questioning, patient green eyes which caught me in the midst of two precious gems: jade and emerald – both of which harbour beauty and intrigue. I looked away and found myself giving him the same excuse, "It's just a poem, Sephiroth."

"All things have a meaning. All things have a purpose."

Oh how I longed I had thought up an excuse more, expandable, "Well…this one…doesn't."

"Why so?"

Why so? Why so? He wants to know why so? So here I am trying my, not exactly my best, but it is still in the early hours of the morning and my head still thinks it is resting against a pillow. I took a long pause to turn over his question, why did he have to ask so many questions? Through my pause of ponder, the only answer to his question that I could find was the truth, but do I tell him this?

"Because…" I began, fiddling with the hem of my coat, "I wrote it."

"Does that matter?" he said, on some part I was offended, yet at the same time I was relieved at that response, "Tell me what it is, Genesis."

I shook my head, sighing into the gentle, artificial breeze, "It's nothing. It's…just words on a page!"

"Who's the Firefly Genesis?"

Oh please Sephiroth! Why must you long to know? If I were to tell you, well then, I honestly do not believe that you would like it. I know you dear friend. You have said it once too many times for yourself: love is nothing, an illusion that we make up to hide the pain of our sorrows and to add a meaning into our lives. You said you're the General of ShinRa's defence force, that just that is your one reason to live – the thing that adds meaning to your life. I want to change it, but you will turn me down and hurt me so much in ways you can never imagine.

"No one." I lied, but I yearned to say his name.

"Genesis, just tell me."

"Just drop it! It's no one! I don't love, Sephiroth! I don't love."

He staggered backwards slightly at the sudden change in my voice. I felt a pang of guilt wash over me, but I was just...irritated. Can he not take no for an answer? Must he try to pry all of these answers out of me? What would he do if he knew, I long not to face. I just wish…hope that maybe someday, we could take our friendship one step closer.

I do remember on New Year's Eve, before the countdown, Angeal and I had told Sephiroth about a Banora tradition to be taken part on that day: to kiss who was sitting next to you. Yes, it is different to the typical New Year's kiss for your lover; no this was for whoever was closest to you. And what did you do Sephiroth? While Angeal was counting down you shuffled closer to me, at the time I thought perhaps you might have at least favoured me over Angeal and that perhaps you loved me on some level, but no. When you kissed me, one I promised to myself that I would never forget and Angeal had become a sleeping drunken mess on the floor, you took me to your room, let me sleep with you though you told me and I quote _'I only did that because I wanted my first kiss to be with someone who was at least aesthetically appealing'._ It hurt to hear that Seph, that I was used in such a way, but I'll never forget it.

"I liked it."

I stripped my mind away from my reminiscing and looked back up to the beautiful silver haired man, whom I longed to hold and kiss just once more.

"The poem. I liked it."

A smile twitched at the corner of my lips. He liked it. My dear, sweet Firefly liked it.

"You did?" I asked, wanting to bask in the warmth spreading in my chest further.

He looked away from the morning sun and turned those stunning shining emeralds to me.

"I'm glad you read it to me."

I could see it, a faint, but truthful smile spreading over his pale pink lips brightening up his gentle, yet well defined features. It almost rendered me breathless and I could feel my heart pounding furiously inside my chest to the point where I had the suspicion that I could hear it and possibly Sephiroth too.

"Why?" I urged on, hoping for those three words that would fulfil all of my dreams and all of my wishes that I knew will never come.

His smile shifted and transformed instantly into a smirk, making me frown. I think I liked it better when he smiled.

"Because now I have a firefly to catch."

I tutted, tearing my eyes away from his, "Oh Goddess, Sephiroth. Do you ever stop?"

"Once in a while, yes."

"Hey you two!" shouted a deep, familiar masculine voice and together in unison, we turned our heads over our shoulders to find Angeal standing in the doorway with three paper cups.

"I got some coffee," he announced, walking up to us with the steaming cups, the scent of the dark liquid drifting through the air, enticing our senses in longing need for the drink. Angeal always bought us coffee in the morning at the café.

He reached us both and handed us our coffee. I could smell it; I just knew it and had become accustomed to it over the years. Cappuccino for me, Café Bombon for Angeal and Mocha for Sephiroth. It was always the same, we never changed our coffee preferences, and quite frankly, I have no idea to why anyone would dare stray away from the lovely taste of something so magical like the Cappuccinos they make in the ShinRa café.

A silence swept over the three of us and I could feel those green eyes watching me. Angeal, being Angeal, sipped his drink and sighed in relief, relishing the dark taste that he loves.

"So…" he started, shattering the silence, "What's this thing with 'fireflies' I was hearing about?"

Oh goodness. I already have Sephiroth on my tail about this and I need not have Angeal. Together those two…I honestly do not want to think about what they may do. Just the vast extent to where they will go with this…that is the problem with having friends that care so much for you: they would do anything to make you happier. I do not think I could get any more joyous, I am quite content with where I am.

My eyes flickered over to Sephiroth, but his beautiful green eyes did not look at me, just continued to gaze out into the simulation, the rays of sunlight caressing his cheeks as he smiled a gentle smile to no one, but the sun. For that moment I envied the glowing star.

"I was simply talking to Genesis about how when we were younger we used to catch fireflies in the summer." he said, not stopping, hesitating, or re-thinking his words.

Angeal laughed and I frowned in confusion, "Oh yeah. They were the good old days."

I stared at Sephiroth, perplexed and unsure of what exactly that was for. He turned his head and looked at me, flashing me his dashing smile and offered a lighthearted wink. I blinked a few times in surprise, wondering to myself, did he just do that? My friend just shook his head, long silver hair swaying slightly from side to side, like a waterfall of silver rain.

"Well," said Angeal, patting Sephiroth in a friendly manner on the back, "I have to go."

"So soon, Angeal?" I asked, finally finding my voice again.

Must he be leaving? He only just arrived here.

"Yes. I have a new class to teach."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'm training a few 2nds," he turned around and looked out at the door, "I should go now. I'll meet you two later outside your place, Seph."

And with that, my childhood friend strolled away leaving me with Sephiroth and an awkward

"What was that for?" I asked, breaking the silence.

He merely shrugged and turned to me, "You remember what it used to be like. Angeal would be busy doing something while you and I would play in the woods or when we were to play hide and seek, Angeal would come looking for us while we snickered and hid amongst the branches of a pine tree. We always did things together and we always kept some things secret from everyone, like our secret place and the time when you had a crush on Angeal."

"Oh please don't remind me of that."

"And the time when you screamed at your own shadow." he added, I scowled.

"I was…very young."

"You were twelve."

So…?

"Well…I thought it was the 'Doppelganger'."

"The 'Doppelganger'?" he questioned, looking at me in confusion, urging me to elaborate.

"It's a Banora myth. You wouldn't know it."

"I do know one thing though."

I furrowed my eyebrows and eyed him suspiciously. This man, he knows far more than he really should and he can depict a lie amongst many things. Perhaps that shall be the reason to why he would not buy my silly excuse of an excuse…nice wording there Genesis.

"And what is that?" I asked, pulling him my infamous smirk.

"Never recite that poem to anyone."

Now I am utterly confused, but my honour and brilliant mind picked out an error in his words. But also, I was slightly offended. Was he trying to say that my poem was…rubbish?

"That's an order not something you know." I corrected, hiding my bemusement and insulted manner.

"Just do it. For me."

"Why? Was it really that bad?"

He smiled again and all rising anger dissolved into nothingness as the serene look gracing his fine features made my helpless heart melt.

"No…It's just our secret. Our thing…if you'd like to call it that."

I was staring, but I could not help myself. He was beautiful and I wanted him. I wanted to hold him, kiss him, make him mine and become his. However, his words caught up to me and my mind caught up in trying to calm down my fluttering heart, was now taken over by the organ – the symbol of love and infatuation spilling words from my mouth.

"Why? Would you like me to write a poem for you?"

"I…You would do that?" he asked.

I nodded, but then my mind woke up and I realized what I had said. I hesitated, eyes darting around the room, trying to find a place to rest other than him. For the second time today, I am in desperate need of another excuse. A better one, one without further question.

"…We have been friends for…quite some time…"

I watched him from the corner of my eyes and cocked my head to the side at the sight of his smile falling. Is there something wrong?

"Oh," he began, his voice sounding awfully hollow, "If you would like to then…go ahead, but it wouldn't be fair. I mean…how about Angeal? You two knew each other before me."

I smiled at that, "Oh yes, we shouldn't leave him out. He might sulk or…something."

Sephiroth chuckled, shaking his head at me, "Sulk? Are you sure you are not describing yourself?"

"Hmph!"

I folded my arms over my chest and stuck my nose up in the air. He laughed this time and I smiled. I loved it when he was happy, joyous…

"Well a poem for Angeal?" he spoke, somehow he became…closer.

Unfolding my arms and gazing up at him, I stated, "We should write it together."

He held his hands out defensively in front of him, "Oh no I can't write poetry."

"Come on, just think. Try an opening line."

"Hmm…an opening line…" he began to think and gazed out into the expanse before us, "'You're disgusting, disgraceful, annoying and hideous. Oh how I long to find salvation!' Is that good?"

He turned back to me, smiling like a fool. Perhaps I was wrong…

"…Maybe not…" I said, nestling closer to him and taking a sip from my cup, "Just when you look at Angeal…what do you think of?"

Sephiroth thought for a moment and I watched him. This would have to be the first time I had ever seen him think over something that was not paperwork. I found it quite adorable, the way his brow would crease and his lips would pout ever so slightly in a very uncharacteristic way.

"Um…Angeal?"

"No!" I exclaimed, amused.

Now was he really that dense in the ways of poetry and literature? Has he not read 'Loveless'?

"Well what do you think of?" He questioned, placing a hand on his hip as he gave me that 'well let's see what you can do, Mr I'm So Great!' look.

"I think of…friendship, someone hardworking, loyal, trust, honesty…those types of…Angeal things."

"Oh…can I say plants?"

I laughed. Angeal Hewley has a very fond liking to plants, almost unhealthily so.

"Yes you can say plants."

He smiled, satisfied, but his eyes remained on me. I felt trapped under his gaze, but in a good way. I didn't want those eyes to look anywhere, but at me and all I could do was look back at them, finding swirling pools of emerald and jade threatening to drown me, making me become lost.

"What do you think of when you look at me?"

My smile widened, that was a simple question, "…Heroics, allure, grace…honour, pride…silver…"

"Are they all what you think of?"

No, of course not. I think of wonder, riches, beauty, handsome in all perspective, kindness, forgiveness, dreams, hopes, Banora Whites, 'Loveless', but most of all…love.

His eyes begged for more, but…I could not tell him that.

"Oh…well there is also Masamune."

Sephiroth rolled his eyes before settling them on me again.

"SOLDIER First Class Commander Genesis Rhapsodos, Sir!"

In complete unison we turned around and found a young SOLDIER standing at the doorway, his right hand raised in salute.

"Director Lazard Deusericus would like to see you, Sir!"

I nodded at the young man, "I will be there. You may take your leave."

I gave the simulation's scenery of the rising sun one last glance and turned my heel, ready to take my leave as well, but a black leather gloved hand caught mine, stopping me in my tracks. I turned around and faced Sephiroth, only this time his head was downcast, his hair shielding his handsome face from view.

"When I look at you…I can't help, but think of…" he trailed off, his voice soft, barely even audible.

"Think of what?" I questioned, walking in closer to him.

"Nothing."

I placed my hand against his cheek, raising his head ever so slightly, enjoying the contrast between the crimson of my glove, the pale creaminess of his skin and the platinum of his soft hair.

"Tell me." I whispered, stroking his cheek gently, not thinking twice about my actions.

He seemed so…tense…almost, dare I think…would he ever be…shy? I smiled softly at that thought and my heart warmed as it beat rapidly inside the confines of my chest.

He raised his head and my breath caught in my throat.

"Maybe later."

I caught his faint smile and moved before thinking, pecking him lightly on his cerise lips. With that I removed myself from the training room, a smile on my face, but a pain in my chest knowing that friends is all we ever will be.

* * *

_To be continued in Part II…_

_Do review to tell me how this is. I know it's a little different and well, the ending wasn't exactly something I was too happy with, but do review…if you want._

_Twiggy Boredom._


	2. Part II

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Final Fantasy franchise and or Sephiroth and Genesis; they belong to each other, aw...

**Author's Note:** I would say that there would have been some mixed signals in the first chapter, which I only came to realize after reading a review from _SLoveless_. This story is a very slight romance story, but **no fluff** I apologize, but Sephiroth/Genesis love is not the sort, honestly, they are 25-year-old **men**, not 15 year old boys.

* I tried to make Genesis a little melodramatic...he reminds me of Lady Macbeth too much. Sephiroth is **Macbeth**, no joke, read _Macbeth_ and you'll understand in fact in my _Macbeth_ notes I wrote in big letters _MACBETH IS SEPHIROTH_. And Gen, I can imagine him saying _"Unsex me here!_"

**Part II**

It is a warm late afternoon, should I note, warm, but not reassuringly so. The sky is not littered with a palette of oranges and lilacs, with the night hindering its edge. Quite the contrary in truth. Thick smog of pollution blankets over us, shielding the inhabitants of the province below from the heavenly rays of sunlight and my once sun-kissed skin has morphed into a ghostly white – ashen and free of colour. Nothing like the moonlit glow of Sephiroth's skin, oh how I long to strip away my gloves and trail my hands along his beautiful skin similar to how I yearn to stroke his hair with a loving sense – for him to know of and share such love with me.

I do not find it at all difficult to see in the dark, a positive in being a SOLDIER, but even still I had the light of a tall lamp on, emitting forth faux sun-like rays,_ "These violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die like fire and powder which as they kiss consume."_ How amusing it is to stumble upon a phrase of mine, written in _Loveless_, but not thinking of it when I must.

I have nothing to voice upon my defence to the actions which I had committed myself to. Like the Banora White – the true symbol of seduction – I was drawn in by the forces of my mind's temptress and lost all rational control of my being. I had been driven with a small ounce of lust, yet even though it was so minute; its impact is akin to fire and dry wood. However, what I had done set ablaze a far greater consequence so much more disastrous and with uncalled for haste – a haste to clear a path in a lost, perplexing woodland of winding paths. I feel – fear, that is what I have done. Making said path destroys the beauty it once had been, burning the gem of the present tense gifts and its promises for the future to a barren fullness as I have reached my destination, yet abolished the triumph I could have had in the unnecessary race to receive what I seek, yet fail to obtain as I turn current beauty, to futile shame.

And as they say _"They stumble that run fast."_ I fear that I may not stumble, but fall and drown in the wasteland I have created.

A soft rap of knuckles on the door startled me and I unfaithfully dropped _Loveless_ from my slack grip to a tent of fanned pages on the carpet. I left it where it lay, my hands still hovering from where they had been since the noise of bone against wood.

I also feared a visitor's arrival at my door. Again not something I would greet openly to at this moment, so I waited with bated breath for the sound of receding footsteps, heavy boots clunking or dress shoes – oh how I despair thee to be at my door – clacking away. Though neither of which did happen. My sharpened senses picked up nought of any sound, not even those of life until I heaved out my held breath and began the works of respiration again. I would have sighed, though I decided against it knowing full well to myself that a highly classed SOLDIER like myself was beyond the wooden barrier and exclamations such as that were grave signs of weakness, like of a clock ticking one second too slow – small, but great in the distant future.

"Come in." I called, barely raising my voice from above its usual casual degree.

The SOLDIER heard and the door did open with an anticipating rattle of the metal doorknob, a soft creak on the hinges before the door joined the foundations of its jamb, snapping into place followed by a light clack and a series of approaching low, thumps of boots on the floorboards to hums on the carpet.

I closed my eyes, feeling my heart sink into the bile pits of my gall. Oh how wish it were Angeal.

"And how are you?" I asked tediously, reminding myself to hide my inner conflicts with my act of a haughty temptress, not that I ever did intend myself to be that way to begin with.

"What are you doing?" the response was quick, snappy and to the point – a way I only ever heard him speak to people he found unimportant or when undergoing the throes of stress.

Stress...I solely have myself to blame for that. Though I must admit, that reaction was not at all what I expected. I expected a shout or a violent complaint on how I abused his 'personal space'. I feared the question of why I kissed him, even if it were chaste, however, why? Why? I could never in the least answer that and most definitely not honestly. Have I ruined what we have? This close connection, one that he may see as the comrades, which reflect to him brotherly idols?

I pushed his question aside, along with my misleading thoughts and finally opened my eyes, shining glowing cerulean at him with a lopsided grin, capturing his stiff stance washed with flowing streams of moonlight tresses, "If one asks a question, one must answer."

"And so you should."

I let my weakness show, sighing audibly for him, seeing those jade eyes narrow at my pitiful state – oh woe is mine! Must every question he ask initiate the one phrase to roll off my tongue? Must it involve such a thing, such sweet words that are so bitter in our rank? I wearily shake my head, and let forth the one word I can use to answer such questions, "Nothing. Now tell–"

"Doesn't look like you're doing nothing." he interrupted, I would have scoffed at his impolite behaviour, but I could sense something gnawing away brutally inside of him – as if he were having his own mental strife. Must be what I had done, "Tell me what would be so much more important than spending your afternoon with Angeal and I?"

I heaved a heavy breath, hearing him speak of us so fondly in our state of a close, tight friendship. Reason why I never can tell him and it stung to break a hiss with fangs sinking, drawing blood, but of course I feigned that it fell on deaf ears serving up a childish remark, "Why is it that you are ignoring my–"

"Just answer the question, Genesis."

"I'm..." I began, brewing up a flurry of improvisations, many outlandish and leading to more questions, but with the glint of golden letters engraved in a hardback, the most obvious of all lay sprawled at my feet, "I'm reading."

"Reading?"he asked with a cocked brow at the incredulity of skipping a mere meeting of friends for my constant pastime, even I found that a little obscure to believe, "Tell me it's _Loveles_s."

I picked up the book of poems, like an artist would an ancient, unfinished canvas, and closed the collections of poetry, eyeing the cover frivolously, "I believe it is." I confirmed, offering a dainty smile to him.

Sephiroth simply shrugged his shoulders, metal pauldrons shining with a warm golden radiance under the dim light of the tall lamp and my tense muscles relaxed as the issue was dropped and I suppose is now resolved. He moved over to me and sat on the coffee table to gaze directly at me.

"What did Lazard want?" he asked, his boots crossing at the ankles, how I take notice of such fine detail should lie in the vehement obsession I hold for him.

"Hmm?" I hummed, flicking through the pages of my prized possession, not a single word on the pages floating into mind as I tried to appear carefree, but he only spoke his question again and I was mentally cornered to answering, "Oh it was nothing."

From the outer boundaries of my vision I caught his eyes smouldering in ever the slightest way, "Again, that word." he replied, lowly with a dash of distaste at what was now filling my prose.

"Sorry, but it seems that all in this world is of such futility." Oh what such ironic truths.

"Just tell me why he needed you."

I turned my gaze up from _Loveless _and to his marble face, the painful urge to stretch a gloved hand out to stroke such fragile features surged like a rippling torrent beneath my skin. But I fought away the sensations and my mind groaned at the incident in the Director's immaculate office.

"He was wondering if I were free this evening."

"And you said..."

I scoffed, "Obviously I had said no."

"You declined his offer?"

"Not quite. Can you not see that I am engaged with meaningful matters?" I questioned, waving _Loveless_ in front of his face, iridescent emerald eyes following the gold script on the cover.

"And so you are." He concluded with a small, friendly smile, enough to lighten up his stoic facade and I chuckled softly to myself to hide the love-sick glint I surely knew was there in my eyes.

"That was, also why I didn't go to the training room."I spoke, closing the book as Sephiroth is so much more endearing than pages of poetic phrases, "I didn't want him to find me there...then questioning me with how _unavailable_ I was. Note, _unavailable, _being the key word."

"I suppose I can cross him off from the list of possible candidates for your beloved Firefly, now can I?"

"He would be the last on my list!" I dramatised, with a laugh scoffing my words.

"Oh, so Hollander's before him?" he questioned, cocking a fine silver brow and a scowl fell upon my face – must he always use my exaggerations to his advantage?

"Will you not mock me so!" I snapped, but I internally scorned my frown when he echoed my words with the upturn of pale pink lips.

"I apologize. It is just the way your statements turn against you – I find it amusing."

"And I do not."

"So be it."

As swiftly as it began, it ended with his apathetic, short responses.

Sure I may seem angered, in truth though, I am not. I quite enjoy our childish bickering; it was one of the qualities that drew me closer to Sephiroth. It showed that he was human, not forever, the untouchable, stoic General Sephiroth of the ShinRa armed forces of SOLDIER. No, it were as if he let go of that title when in private despite the years it had taken to help him draw back the iron curtain he raised around his person over the many years of having been taught to live as a breathing weapon. It hurts to think that, but are honesties ever forgiving to the soul upon reality?

"You can pour yourself a drink. Don't mind me." I said, turning back to _Loveless._

What surprised me the most was that he was not at all taking too much into thought of the light pressing of lips I indulged myself in to his own in the early hours of this day. He had not brought up the proposition or shown any hint of the possibility that it may have irked him, not even in the slightest. Perhaps that is how far deep our friendship runs, a tight bond of camaraderie. But even with this in the forefront of all my thoughts, doubt lingers. What normal man would find the lips of another's against his not at least unnerving?

My desires spoke of the likelihood of Sephiroth having the same form of affection to me, but all of these signals and signs he is displaying leads me to think not. He did not return what I proposed, nor did he display any amounts of adoration above that of a loyal chum.

He seemed also to be merry with the way he strolled into my kitchenette and served himself a glass of wine, sweet merlot, clearly not taking my words on that I did not want a drink as he poured another crystal glass with the burgundy liquid.

"Something's bothering you." he stated, handing me my drink with which I muttered a hushed thanks and seated himself beside me on the leather couch.

"It's nothing." I replied, swirling the wine in my glass – 'tis the only answer I will offer, no one shall pry into my thoughts for a long while.

"Nothing. Nothing like that poem?" he asked, scanning my profile for any signs that may throw at him a plethora of honest answers.

All I could commit to action in my defence was offer what I hope was a light nod, nothing guarded or wary to reflect the false facade, "Yes. The same nothing." I confirmed and all he did was the negative of my positive act.

A brief shake of the head, silver tresses following the motion like an intricate veil would flutter in a gentle breeze. Oh what despair, all thoughts and slight actions of his conjure a winding path of lyrical trails through the dark, uncanny, displeasing world surrounding us. Sephiroth brings out a side of me, an odd mannerism that I had convinced myself and many others that know me well or not, which _Loveless_ can unlock and unbind from the chains and masks of a SOLDIER.

How long had Sephiroth been contemplating what to say, I did not know, however I was amused and pleased to watch his eyes staring intently at my glass, which I had yet to drink from. He is mysterious, a mind straining puzzle that breaks a sweat from harsh pondering, but despite that, the world including I is forever enraptured by the man and his ongoing mysteries which fascinate me...perhaps I am burrowing too deep into the surface of affection I have built up into a mountain of escalating ascensions.

No. I truly am acting like an infatuated immature teenager whose drive lies in unbalanced levels of hormones.

"Sometimes nothing is worthwhile." His low hum of a voice broke out, pleasantly breaking through the silence, and now I am honestly glad that it were Sephiroth and not Angeal (I do not think I can face another unfathomable lecture of maintaining honour and holding onto both pride and dreams), "You said that poem was nothing, yet I say…I want to find that Firefly for you. You can't keep thinking that everything is futile, without purpose, Genesis. You always do that…say that. It's not nothing, it's something, and you won't tell me what it is."

A wry smile pulled at one corner of my lips, "I never knew you could be so philosophical, or am I just that easy to read?" He returned the smile, small, but had the power to warm my heart with a calm, blazing flame of a strange desire, not of lust, but another – one that made me yearn for his touch and soothing words that spoke of what lies beyond the tight ropes of camaraderie. For that my smile fell and my posture with it, "But…you don't have to look for the Firefly."

"Why?" he asked – 'tis strange, he never had wanted to dwell so far into my personal matters before. Could it have been his way of questioning why I had kissed him? A clever man he is, yet not nearly as clever enough to fool me.

I can read you like a book my friend.

"It won't ever love a fool like me." I replied with only truth in my words, in absolute realism it almost sickened me to see Sephiroth in a different light as he is in now...a loving one leaves a foul trace, "Besides I don't think you would want to know who."

I took a sip of wine, but a black gloved hand caught hold of the glass and pulled it away from my grip, resting the drink on the coffee table.

"I want to."

"No."

This was childish, no doubt of that lay in the air and by the sternness in his eyes and the tightness of his jaw, even he was growing tired of this shenanigan.

"Genesis, just tell me."

"Why is it that you must know this? Is there a reason for such questions, let alone the want to know? What upper hand would you gain or what aid would it give you?"

An ill silence blew onto us like a chilled breeze smothering a flame on a flickering candle – unwanted and unpleasant. I let him think, but did not ask myself what it shall be that he is thinking. I'll let him have his mulling to himself and mine to my own as I began reciting _Loveless_ from personal memory. Angeal would say that my tendency to recite the grand poem was out of habit from reading the book a plethora of times, my hypothesis lies in the actuality of an undying passion for it, that the words have seeped beyond my memory and now runs deep into my veins, pumping through my being like the lifestream does the world.

"I don't know."

I took my eyes back to him and I could not restrain myself from the surge of feeling so...giddy? Perhaps merry would be more adjusted, whatever this sensation is and why on all the lands am I feeling so, I have no clue to. All he had said was that he did not know – it could bend either way. It did not really ease the tension at all, though I felt it had. Or maybe it is the searching jade eyes that I am forever caught by that are luring me into the need to satisfy my crave?

No. His technique is working, his multitude of questions to fish out the answer...it is working. How amusing. Has he forgotten that like him, I too am a SOLDIER?

Stuck to the mental frame of frolicsome giddiness, I offered a half smirk, not shy to flaunt a glint in my eyes, which spoke so much more than words dripping with enticing promise. Sometimes I just have to admit, who could resist me? Frivolousness is most definitely something I tweak with the gift I was given – only those who are bold can do what I manage and with Sephiroth it is akin to toying hearts with fire, then again if he is the stoic general, then who claims he even has a heart?

I slid closer to him, resting my weary head upon his pauldron clad shoulder. I would not go too far with my seductive traits...not now at least.

"Do you want this Firefly to be you, is that why you are so curious?" I asked, lazily drawing idle patterns on his thigh, loving the way he twitched, but did not push me away – could this be a good sign?

I tried my best to maintain a calm air about me. I was not, however. Not even in the very least. My heart betrayed me physically with its erratic pulse, the organ so valiant to do so, and I despised its bravery. With my body so close to the man of my affections, I was positive he could feel it, but even still, knowing the General, he would turn a blind eye to it, possibly question me to whether I was developing a fever.

I could not deny how much I yearned for him to say a simple word of merely three letters instead of the negative two. True that he is one for efficiency, but not so efficient that we would prefer to say what I fear rather than what I hope. I had to remind my selfish conscience, Sephiroth does not need someone to hinder him, grow as a burden to his excels in SOLDIER. He does not need that, but with doubts wracking my mind, all words remain futile to me and only greed seems to be eminent.

I read myself too deep and I read my friend like an incomplete masterpiece – only deciding for it what I want to metamorphose him into what I long for. My desires...they will be the death of me, yet here I smile innocently, gazing up into luminous emeralds – such beauty in a land of nothingness...one shall say is fragile, a rare treat, others bring upon _'fair is foul, and foul is fair'_. I think the former and to accentuate my covet, I kissed him lightly on the cheek – no alluring defines beneath its surface.

"No."

I retreated at his hollow deadpan, never had I abhorred the sound of his voice before as I slid away, drawing an appropriate distance between us – not even a lingering touch was left behind. I never did know such pain could exist; I had never been left in redundancy before when I raised an offer. I took my eyes away from him and fingered the engraved script on the hardback of _Loveless_, toying nonsensically – even that action was a traitor to mine self.

"Oh..." I said, my voice so bland it soured the atmosphere and my eyes had decided that the glass of wine before me was so much more worth my interest than the man sitting beside me.

"Genesis?" Why is it that my name sounds so sweet coming from his lips?

It further ate at me and I had the sudden desire to will the rest of my day alone, for Sephiroth to leave me be. His hand settled on my shoulder, and it hurt. It quite honestly hurt, tore at me viciously like a rabid beast leaving my innards splayed out of my being, only a footprint of absolute hollowness was left to fill me. I wanted that hand to curl around my waist, for a more intimate touch – that was denied.

A glowing splint combusted.

Flames licked at me, scorching my being and inept fury burned. It is not at all fair. I am hurt, but what of Sephiroth? How could a man deny me in such a way without any honourable reason? I would have smirked to show that revelation, but instead I was helpless, so let Sephiroth see that through. He is human and guilt is a pain so fierce that it can by no means be erased, or disposed of lightly.

But 'tis nothing.

"It's Angeal." I lied.

His hand fell away from my shoulder and he stood abruptly.

"I see." was all he said in a mutter.

His hair drifted behind him as he walked away. I would have thought how beautiful it seemed, like a silver trail floating in the breeze, yet his gait was stiff, shrouded in rush, impatience and my heart called anon at the sight that Sephiroth deserved not of my love as he is nothing, but a walking weapon. I was confused, not of myself, but of him.

The door snapped shut behind him and silence met my ears.

Just what was the meaning of that?

* * *

**Please Read This: **_I am fifteen. No kidding. Another surprising fact: I don't read books at all, unless I am forced to by my wonderful English teacher (who is pregnant, so best wishes to her!).  
Not bragging, I'm just saying, because I would love to hear people's responses to this as this is the most comfortable writing style of mine (Genesis speak is so poetic, fun to write and flows so easily) and I want constructive critique to aid me in my path to university – to guide me to where I want to steer my life into._

**Thank you to everyone who took their time to review, favorite and/or put this story on their alerts. I hold all of those close to my heart.**


	3. Part III

**Soundtrack: **'Colourspace' and 'II. Softlight' by House Vs Hurricane.

**Author's Note:** I feel terrible for cheating all of you lot who hoped for some 'steam', even my brother is whining about that. Truthfully, I never hoped or thought or wanted to write such a scene. I don't follow clichés and trends, nor do I write for minors or want to write for minors. Then why the rating? Sorry...No offence, but I didn't want people who have little...appreciation of literature to read this and then go all fangirl and ballistic over everything that meant nothing.

Also, no matter how much you want to deny it, Genesis is a very stubborn, narcissistic, pessimist who takes passion into account of his actions. He's this beautiful dichotomy of good and bad, hard and soft, beautiful and hideous, cold and warm, gentle and violent – you could say that he is bipolar or faces an identity crisis, I conclude it's just passion meaning he draws on the greatest of extremities.

**Part III**

_Loveless_ at my abandon, I was occupied by my dull thoughts – livened with kitschy glamour due to the absence of the decorated, allure of my beloved. I have acted so carelessly over the course of the previous days, weeks, months – _please do spare me the thought of one year_. With such rash, impromptu actions, I seem to be heading towards liberation in collapsing inwards on myself.

I had come down with a strange fever not two weeks ago and the medics made a ruckus with shattered glass and metal instruments as they hastily made for a tube filled with my blood. I could not see their silly fuss with meaning at the time, however, now, on the top of the ShinRa building, I realised my sightlessness – from the fever and the childish ignorance.

I am not getting better.

Though I thought, perhaps it is anxiety, I can be quite worrisome on vast occasions, perhaps, these pent up emotions felt the need to release thus, somehow, this caused a delusional fever...

Try as I may, I fail terribly at making appropriate assumptions and I know, wise and well, I was always a very fragile thing – like glass mother would say and then she would coo how gorgeous and sweet of a son I was. That brings another thought, I have not seen my mother in a long while, however, I would be lying if I said that I would be far more euphoric to see her than Angeal's mother.

I only have myself to blame, I would apologise greatly for the cruelty and irrationality of my actions. I suppose an unsealing wound beneath my armour would weigh me down far enough to remind me of the unsealing wounds that I have so...inanely, inflicted upon myself. How little did I think, how silly of me to even consider that a man who lived his authority like a religious figure to their God, would dare to take regard of the meaning of my words. Their greatest similarity being that they would never, even with much coercing and limitless reasons why, they cannot abandon their post as if it held their very purpose in life.

My thoughts were whisked away by the gentle kiss of a late afternoon breeze. It seemed faintly woeful and that brought morbidity to what quirk remained in my dissipating smile. Breath stole by mild asphyxiation, I noted that life was far more fragile than I originally had imagined. Ah, yes, imaginations are wrought from false notions. How pitiful of me to believe in such mental hallucinations. For all these past years I thought of myself as a great being, one unstoppable, invincible, yet before birth I was granted with the reverse – I can linger only for a few moments before my living runs dry and time, cruel time, erases me from the memories of all.

I wonder, who would remember me? Instinctually I would suppose Angeal – that loyal, loveable lout – however, I forget him almost at once the thought entered me.

Rhapsodos, you are the greatest fool!

I had tried to safe guard myself on countless occasions, but with turning my head the other way to recollect those recent events, I can feel the sting as I strike my cheek and mutter a string of aberrant curses. It seems _fool_ is not quite the word to define what I have been for the past weeks.

Taking hold of the rail before me, I stilled myself and let the sweeping of the wind will me into serenity. I longed to escape into the world of metaphysics, but synaesthesia took the better of me: the faint creak of the door followed by the gentle slam raked not my ears, but chilled my spine.

Can he not see that I want to be in the company of my foolish self?

"You lied to me."

I cringed inwardly and disregarded his words and approaching presence for the while, eager for his premature departure. His hand gingerly fell upon my shoulder making it quite known to me that he is unsure of where my injury lay. I shifted from him, securing a gap of three feet between us and I made it clear in refusing a union between the two of us. The murky sky with distant glowing orb shining an ashen light through the haze had my eyes in deep company. It seemed hollow and displeasing, that I recommended upon myself this place to hide away. The silky seas of heaven hung like lead in the city, and where diamonds were strewn across Minerva's flowing dress, little light of those glimmering stars ever shone through the gloom of Midgar.

Granted, vast moments later, he turned on his heel in a flurry of black and silver to take his leave, giving me a taste of his frustration that lofted in the air from an almost silent huff.

I find it rather...complex to comprehend the urge that prompted me to grasp his hand in a sightless flutter and ask, "How did you find me?"

"Why did you lie to me?" he countered, not wrenching my vile hand from his – noticing my own oddities in acknowledging mindless physical contact made me scorn myself with a mental bout of chastising.

Jerking my hand from his, I should have relied on subtleties and plucked instead as any befitting gentleman, as myself, would have done for I startled the poor fellow and snapped harshly at him, "Do not avoid my question with stating one of your own!"

Accustomed to my, dare I admit to it, capricious nature, he remained impassive, "I searched for you." he said and I turned to face that...man, beside me with eyes drawn to the floor like a moth to light.

"I did not lie." How egregious that was and I was certain that he knew.

With a cock of a brow and a common gleam in his eyes, he questioned me, "Is that so?" it seemed he drawled, as if in a drunken slander, but I knew it to be my doing, "You're a confident person and you have known Angeal far longer than I have, yet you fear his judgement upon your declarations of–"

"Don't say it!" cut I. Alarmed by the volume of my voice, he thought it wise it to eradicate the space between us, though I moved further and turned sharply away, "The word makes me sick."

"What of Angeal?"

I laughed indignantly, throwing an incredulous gaze at him, "Do you really think that I could–"

"No, I never did believe it." His eyes hardened, and I was held aloft in that colour that I dreamt of on countless occasions, that one that captivated me in their surreal vibrancy and he knew this, so much so that he extended an arm towards me with a more than beckoning sight upon his face.

Shaking my head in feigned dismay, I sidled beside him and shot a glare at the arm that refused to return to its person. He seemed quite giddy, an odd thing to say of Sephiroth, but it felt correct enough – strangely.

He grinned down at me and I frowned, "Lazard?"

Shoving the man away he smirked, "Oh please!" I cried, he thought it funny and laughed, "Can you not think of someone more appropriate? Lazard. Of all people! He's almost as flamboyant as I am and yes, keep laughing, I actually can admit to such flaws!"

"Flaws?"

I had been near to lose my ground on his speculation, but I waved it away and enjoyed the moment with a smirk, "Unless you find it somewhat...attractive?"

"About the other day?"

Laughing gaily at him, I noticed that uncomfortable shift and flicker of his eyes as he occupied himself with the ends of his gloves.

"Changing the subject are we? I already told you. I'll be fine."Smiling warmly, it felt worn and unconvincing, though I tried to straighten the errors and mask my woes with weak contentment.

"I want to believe you." he said, and my lips drew away from feigned emotions.

A silence settled between us. Usually I would not have minded the pauses that came about, however, those times were more of understanding and quite frequently I praise his disposition of speaking very little. I had never truly known the reason in why, yet I came to acknowledge that I knew him more in silence than when he shared tales and recollections of past events.

In hindsight, how very melancholy.

"You're not reading _Loveless_. That's a sight I thought I'd never see."

Pleased that he broke the silence, and even more delighted to hear the liveliness, even if just faintly hinted, in his voice.

"Want me to quote a few lines for you, then?" I asked with such haughty valour, I felt it right to indulge myself with the entrancing poem.

I was answered by the pressing of a weight in my hand, and I caught the faint glint of golden letters and leather bordered in filigree, "You left it in the training room. I have been meaning to return it to you since, however, I felt you wanted some time alone."

Alarmed and immediately frightened, I took _Loveless_ with trembling fingers barely stilled enough to curl them round the edge. Avoiding his gaze, I swallowed thickly and there was a great sinking in the heart, as terror bleached my pallid face, "You didn't...read anything in there, did you?"

"No," he said, shaking his head, "The words sound better when you say them."

Slipping the grand poem into a fold within my coat, the familiar weight granted me both composure and relief, "I'm honoured."

A coy exert of merriment surpassed my lips to fill the quiet and it quickly became jovial.

"What?" he asked, probably wondering what the laughing matter was.

I sighed, bereft, yet mysteriously gay – whatever perspective to be taken, please take so, kindly.

Turning to him, I found that charming curiosity of his, if not for the aloof nature and corrupted mindset, I would have referred to him as sweet. Wistfully I envisioned a palette of colours strewn across the sky, a distant, warm, radiant light cracking through the dense clouds, "Two men, alone on a rooftop, no one around to be witnesses and the sun is just setting..." locking jade with sapphire, my hand skimmed over his – if he disliked it, why is it that he smiles so? "It seems morbidly romantic..."

"Genesis?"

Smirking, I tossed my head back like the actors of Loveless Avenue, red glove pressed so daintily upon my forehead and cried with great dismay, "Oh, if only it weren't you!"

Folding his arms in pretend despondence, he stated dryly, "I'm sorry to be the spoil of the moment."

All I could do in response was smile, and think, '_hardly'_.

As the wind tousled my hair ever so gently, I felt the beginnings of great oratory breaking to brilliance and words to mark my most intimate of affections. I failed myself once more, but words cannot hurt, not if only I beheld their worth, "You could take me to the top of the spire and what would I see? Viridian seas of jade embellished into the fine ceramics of the Wutai, yet feared so by its creators. A harmony blends with a frame cast from streams of silver light shot down from the heavens by the endeavour of the circular Goddess of the night...spun into flowing streams to assist in crafting a masterpiece so godlike. You are, my living filigree –"

"And you are a dreamer," he interrupted, "A poet. A fanciful one at that."

I wanted to proclaim that I was not reciting words that I have written, nor those written by any other hand. I spoke of what sang within me, my own deepest, realms of hidden desires. I should have expected as much, for him to not dwell too far into the arts, just their 'fanciful' attire with feathered hats and silk sashes. However, I suppose I am too...inane to submit to my instincts and instead followed the hopeless theories of a word that does not succeed in existence.

"Fanciful?" I questioned, following his understanding of what my utterings were.

"You have a way with words. Who do you write for? Or are you really that narcissistic and aim to please only yourself? Don't get me wrong, if I bestowed your talents, I would do the same."

Narcissistic? "Jealous?"

"Maybe," he admitted, quite surprisingly, "Does that satisfy you?"

"And so the prince strives to satisfy me by pressing lies into the wind."

"Don't flatter me."

"I apologise. I must have forgotten that I am a narcissist."

He raised a brow and shook his head, "You have been visiting Lazard a lot lately."

Is there an oddity in that? "And what of it? A First Class SOLDIER does frequent his office. It is all part of duty, correct?"

Such blankness fell upon his face, questioning eyes in that very unconvinced manner and I had mock him with laughter. Apparently there must be a rather odd tune in my visits to the Director (had I not masked it all that well?), but it seemed so silly a thing to spark his concern and with such seriousness – I took it as jealousy, how else could it be? "Oh, Seph! Look at you! You're green! Tell me, is it my good looks or my charm?"

Hesighed at the notion, "I'm not envious. As for your question...how to answer that without dampening your pride?"

"I'm not that self-centred!" I snapped, jabbing a finger at his armour.

Humoured, he waved away at my hand like a child would swat at their mother's, "Okay then. As you wish to know... Neither."

I was so jovial, buoyant, then such gaiety flashed away from my features, leaving me perplexed and somewhat irritated, "Neither?"

"Yes, neither."

With a purse of my lips, a tilt of my head, and a quizzical glow in my eye I asked, dryly, "Then what is it about me that manages to gain your deepest of concerns?"

He chuckled, I do not see what is so amusing, "You're different. Fresh, artistic, unique, highly unpredictable – it makes you interesting."

That was...satisfactory.

"On highly unpredictable. I could call you a bigot and you would admire that?"

His face came before mine, eyes burning with a challenge, "Try me."

"And you like that in a friend?" I asked, pressing a finger to his forehead to remove him from the proximity.

"You could say that..." he took my wrist and pulled me closer, leaving me awfully dazed, yet I allowed him to despite the clear shock upon my face. He eyed me carefully, and I being such a strange fellow, scowled at him for he was my friend, yet enjoyed the comfort of him being so close to me that I did nothing more than that, "Although, I could also add that you're a lot more clever than you look, Genesis."

"Oh!" I snapped my hand from his grasp, "Well then. How intellectually stable do I look then, pray tell?"

"They say the more beautiful one is then the more...not so clever, to be discrete."

Giving him quite the incredulous look, arms folded and flabbergasted, I rationalised, "You think I'm beautiful?"

"Well...you look...passable."

"Passable?"I questioned, gazing into that handsome face of hardened marble, softened by the onslaught of an uncomfortable discussion, and I toyed with a lock of silver hair, "Sounds more like unrequited love to me."

"I'm not that desperate. Unlike some of us."

"Heavens, Sephiroth! For the last time it is not the Director!"

"What a shame, he's the Director to you now and not Lazard. I hope I wasn't the cause." he said while I lay a comfortable gap between us.

A contemplative silence fell amongst our company.

"What would you see in him anyway?" he quipped, I smiled.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe even for the fact that he's not hawking over my back trying so desperately to pry into my personal affairs."

"Now that sounds like unrequited love."

I sighed, had he known, love would not have been as unrequited as it seems. "I'm not in love, Sephiroth." I stated blandly, a dull oppression settling upon me.

He settled by my side and leant against the rail, his hand in black leather so very close to mine, "How tragically ironic. I would have supposed that you with the romantic poetry would lead such a lifestyle."

I shook my head, "You thought wrong my friend. How could you even garner the idea that I could love if both you and I cannot possibly comprehend its contents?"

"Both of us?"

"Well I know myself quite well, there are numerous conversations in my own company that not even Angeal has heard a word fall from. As for you, Sephiroth, how could you challenge the idea or assume that another is in its practice? How could a bigot even know let alone understand the concept of this love and the grounds that form the bonds of my insane ties to him." he quirked a brow and I noticed my error and quickly added, "The Firefly that is!"

"What a shame. You had my hopes up for a moment." he said dryly making me laugh – light and small.

"I like this." I said, enjoying a peaceful quiet between us, and allowed myself to lean against him.

Midgar was slowly losing its charm of little lights below as buildings began to darken and only the streetlamps were illuminated. A chill breeze disturbed my senses and I fled to warmth, which I only found in my dear Firefly.

"I could say the same."

"Sorry?" I brought my eyes up to his only to find that they were searching the sky.

"You have spoken little lately, however...today is somewhat different."

"I have had enough time to gather my thoughts." I said, quieting Hollander's voice with those dreadful words still in my ear, "You seem awfully concerned for me."

"I admit, as always, you are a cause for concern, but I know now–"

"That it has intensified?"

He refused to speak, the answer having been to clear to voice. I strangled a chuckle, a sharpness through my shoulder like a blade of SOLDIER, "Why, of course it has!" I hollered, "And you have proven it to me and I shall bother you no more as you will quiet on the subject of fireflies!"

Sephiroth lost his composure by my outburst, face torn between shock and confusion, "Bother me no more?"

My existence was dissipating – fading slowly, but ever so surely. Of course, there would be less of I as an impediment, or a companion. The bitterness took its leave and in its place, I felt the greatest sympathy and remorse.

"I am sorry. I had not meant to state it in such a harsh way."

The apology put him at ease once more and the city painted in the darkest of palettes held the attention of jade and sapphire.

"What would you call it?" he asked.

I faced him, unsure of what to say and many times words had failed to reach me. I would have left it there and then, turned and taken my leave. Despite the more than often unkind behaviour I have directed towards him, I never meant harm and there had always been a sense in that he knew this. I cared for Sephiroth, he and Angeal being the two figures in my life that I would openly call my brethren, so it would only be just to prevent his knowing of my ailment – I do not want to become a hindrance, a petty bother in the confines of his mind.

Instead of having left, I stayed, rooted to the ground and lost in his emerald gaze. How could I allow myself the honour of loving another man, especially one of such grand worth? It was pointless really, a blindness. I felt like a thief entranced by a diamond – knowing the consequences, yet determined to gain what I have no rightful purpose in possessing.

"Degradation." I stated with a sigh – he gazed at me oddly, longing for an expansion, "It's decaying me, this strong sense of yearn. Why must it be that I desire something that is far beyond my grasp?"

"I could help you."

"This is not like what you think."

"What are you trying to say?"

"What is it that I have left unsaid?"

"Why, the 'Firefly' of course."

"All of those that are followers of the fancy, illogical, triviality that we label 'love' are all obnoxious and ignorant. He is, fortunately, or unfortunately, not an ignorant bastard. Unlike myself." he frowned, so I turned away, "My Firefly would want to see me die very soon, whither into dust as I surely am." I gazed up at the black, starless sky – oh how I longed to see the stars once more, "The price of freedom...I would give all away for a taste of it."

"You've exhausted yourself." he said softly, as if not wanting to disrupt my pensive moment, "I'll escort you back to your room."

I waved him off, "No, no. I am fine."

He nodded once, bright green peering at me with uncertainty through thin, silk tresses of silver and he made to take his leave.

"I apologise..." I spoke up, and Sephiroth halted, "If I had offended you. I am very sorry, but I fear you'll only...dislike me."

"If you were apologising for lying to me, I would not accept it, otherwise..." he held out his arm in a courteous manner with the slightest bow of his head.

I chided him with a light snap of my fingers against his bicep, "You make me wonder, you know that."

"About what?" he asked, opening the door for me and motioning me in like a chivalrous man of nobility to a maiden.

In response, I stood in the doorway, arms folded and eyeing him quizzically, "I honestly do believe that you wish you are the Firefly."

"How would you put it? 'Don't give words to such folly.'"

"I'm being serious."

"As much as I am trying to be illogical."

"Don't tell me you have someone."

"I don't."

"Good!" I clamoured with great joy in the heart, "Because I'll be envious for sure!"

"Narcissist." he teased, "Would you really envy yourself?"

I scoffed, entering the building, "I already told you I am not even covertly narcissistic."

Sephiroth muttered something that sounded strangely like, "You're being too illogical." Yet I took no further account on it and allowed him to escort me.

Upon reaching my quarters, I felt the desire to keep him in my company further. I had come to the top of the building with the greatest sense of sorrow and woe, but in leaving my troubles were least on my mind. Sephiroth always had that ability. His companionship is a difficult one to happen upon, but, in its gain, many gifts are received.

Turning to face him, I offered a weak smile. "Your presence could be appreciated."

He accepted my request with a simple bow of his head and followed me through the door. I had been ready to ask his preference for beverages once the door shut with a soft click then he beat me with a question of his own.

"How are you?"

I was briefly taken aback, unsure of how to approach the question. Was there an underlying tone to it? Sarcasm perhaps? Though by the sight on his face it appeared to be an honest question, why asked is one on its own.

"...I am fine." I replied truthfully, "Yourself?"

"I meant..." Vivid green eyes flickered to my shoulder, before darting away to the white of my walls, "Never mind."

He knew. Was that what sparked his concern?

"Who told you?"

"The Director."

"Why?"

"I enquired." he admitted – I sighed, "I was concerned for you."

"You should have asked me!"

"Genesis, I couldn't even talk to you!"

"Don't raise your voice at me!"

"What is wrong with you?" he snatched at my wrist and I hissed under his grip. Immediately, his hand fled from me and an apology slipped from his lips. I felt the urgency to curse and soil his name with crude vernacular, however, refrained, and turned away from him, begging mildly for the brute to take leave.

"I am sorry."

_Don't repeat!_ I thought, _I don't want to bear witness to hearing your wretched voice especially in a way that pleaded for forgiveness and corrections_. Redemption harboured none in this sense, and he lingered about behind me like a sour omen. So blandly, I saw his face again and took a seat on the coffee table offering a dainty smile that cleared impeccable skies with clouds. He knelt before me and I gained the utmost desire to surrender at that moment with the careless act of a well placed kissed on a marble cheek.

"Just one night."

"One night?"

"I found the north star. It shone so brightly against the blackened skies." I closed my eyes, head resting on cold metal and my voice faintly discernible, as I buried my face in the collar of his coat, "Night's heavy blanket seemed so weightless as it floated above me, catching dreams in the wind and compelling many in their wake. Mottled not her wispy veil with shining silver pearls glimmering in the weaves. Instead, her head peaked through the crowds of drifting clouds like buds opening to form the brilliant flower. Then I spotted, a brightly glowing, yet faintly luminescent orb hidden deep in her bosom..." I opened my eyes, stared up at the pallid ceiling, "Then I knew I wasn't worthy...And I never will be." He took my chin and lowered my head so my eyes fused to his. I smiled such an empty smile and I received the impression that he knew this.

That finger still to my face, brushed back a lock of auburn, it was wholly bizarre that the thought to reach me there and then was not the minute gap between us, but the gentle touch of _Loveless_ against my side. Breaking from the silence I whispered in complete sincerity, "I could turn sour over time, bitter even. Hateful...do not think of such. But you trust me, don't you?"

"To what extent are you suggesting?"

Must he ask?

"Beyond the stars." I muttered in a hushed breath.

He had not complained or snapped away in disbelief at my request, instead his gaze appeared to question me, peruse what words and actions I displayed to him. In the end, his lips quirked at the very corners.

"That's limitless." Came the murmur, "Chasms can form. You have to admit that."

I shook my head in the slightest of stirs, "They won't. Not until you understand. I feel I will forget. No, I fear it. I fear that I will forget."

"Forget what?"

I smiled, fingers burning to touch his cheek, "This Firefly nonsense."

"I wouldn't call it nonsense."

"I make no sense."

"You're being melodramatic."

I embraced him, "Perhaps I am." he failed to respond, but I paid it no mind.

Sephiroth captivated me and my survival cannot be of value if I had lost the camaraderie that we share.

Pulling back from my hold, I held his face in my hands, "Sephiroth...I couldn't ever hurt you. I'll only be hurting myself as well."

"What do you mean?"

"Nature is diabolical...ShinRa is far worse. You and I are like frost and flame...yet we are..." so very much the same – and my lips quirked upwards, "I am narcissistic."

"What are you trying to say?"

Letting go, I stared up at the ceiling and spoke my despairs in a hushed breath, "Oh me, oh my...Oh woe is mine."

"Ours."

"Ours?" I took my gaze back to him, perplexed, "What have you got to be woeful about?"

"I have learnt today that I cannot possibly love, Genesis."

I smiled, "Had you not paused between 'love' and my name..."

My voice drifted off and he held my hand in his, the intensity growing sharper in iridescent green as he placed his other to the side of my face.

"Had I not paused?" he whispered.

I was speechless. My eyes failed to flee from his and I being so foolish leant into his touch.

"It would have been morbidly romantic."

"Should I remove said pause?"

"What are you insinuating?"

Sephiroth only gave a small laugh.

"I am sceptical about the origins of this Firefly. I feel I am close, but the possibility..."

I placed a hand gently to his cheek, a contentedness filling my person, "Go on..."

He removed the hand on my face and it came to rest over ours that were conjoined, "Tell me something, just one thing, anything to do with this person."

There were many things I could say, many of which would not shine too large a light on said person. However, I already had mentioned so many qualities, so many aspects of Sephiroth that surely, surely he should know. I too sense that he is close, but even so, he is very far off.

"Nothing. There is nothing to say." I said, but he had not expressed any frustration from that.

Instead he smiled, finding something to treasure in my words, "Not even _Loveless_?"

Such a charmer.

"_...Hero of the Dawn, Healer of Worlds. Dreams of the morrow_ –"

"I should be going." he said, standing up and taking a brief stretch.

Amused, I asked "You do not want to hear the rest?"

"There is no point." he stated, already at the door, "You'll be sitting on my desk quoting from your beloved book while I'm doing paperwork all day tomorrow."

I approached him, "Is that a promise?"

"_The morrow is barren of promises,_ am I right Genesis?"

Furrowing my brow, I asked curiously, "What do you mean?"

He opened the door and smirked, "It's not a promise. It's routine."

I glowered frivolously and he smugly chuckled.

Saying our last farewells, I watched Sephiroth retreat down the hallway before closing the door. Inhaling deeply I sat down on the couch and released the breath, and pulled _Loveless_ into my hands. For a moment, I simply fixed my eyes on the leather cover, a hand brushing over the surface, fingers delving into the shallow crevasses of the letters. So many years I have spent deciphering the meaning, the purpose and the essence of the grand poem that I have begun to regard my life as one.

My phone began to ring, its shrill tune startling me from the quiet. Taking it before my eyes, I saw Lazard's name.

I then wished we had made the promise for the morrow.

Answering the phone was merely out of courtesy, "Director..."

"You are to leave shortly."

* * *

I had left it on the coffee table, knowing you would find it there – a torn page from _Loveless_ filled with worthless worth. Those large black letters, hollering at you in their capital letters, _LOVELESS_; adorning the page were the words that caught your fancy. Words of light and fireflies, of basking in glory and the essence of the gift that I craved from the Goddess. My gift was wrought in wrong, created wrong from many perspectives.

I learnt of your origins, felt disgust – a sweep of nausea fill my chest and spill upon the earth. Your light is of fault, a horrid injustice upon nature – like the glow of city lights; you were made by men fiddling with test tubes and meddling with experiments. You could not be the Firefly that I so dearly yearned, yet I was blinded from the start by what my tainted eyes saw in the beast of your kind. A robust SOLDIER, a man worthy of the respect of all, only truthfully in disguise, you hid with such grandeur, such godlike eminence the monster you are.

Yet I abhor you further more with the passing of each day, I cannot make myself feel even the slightest pain and pity for the man I held the strongest of admiration for. I could laugh with morbidity, reconciling with agony on the days that had once been so happy, are memories founded by lies.

I can remember how I caught sight of you in Junon. There you had sat under a tree by your own company and that of my words. Had it brought you comfort my friend? That perhaps my presence still lurked between the words I had writ? I should have felt pity, I possibly had.

Tell me dear friend, that last little line, had you made a mess of your quarters upon its sight, or sat woefully in your chair hoping that you had not been such a dunce (that you had known, deciphered, listened to what I had said)? I loved you: wholly, heartily, freely, wistfully, dearly. Had you felt the same? I could not argue, Sephiroth, for I know your mind on keeping my words – it must have been for the woe that the final line had given you.

That revelation. That name.

Your name.

Though my Gift of the Goddess, my Firefly, it cannot be you, for you yourself had not come upon the earth as a soul granted by the Goddess herself. A different entity, one unjust, inhuman – though you disbelieved me, showed me the full length of black leather and left. I still had desired you, even in the midst of the madness – I was growing madder.

Had you not burned my words with the town, I would have put ink to paper and strike out your name. Then again, I would not have done so, for I loved you, Sephiroth, my dearest friend, all the same – just the monster, the unnatural creation I will regard as profane. I believed you resilient, strong, glorious, thus my desire to gain your affection, though, had you submit to the darkest of your being?

I fear so. I have feared many things...my shadow, death...and then you.

I had envisioned you to have a portrait painted by the most talented of hands framed in rich golden arabesque, a man worthy of higher status, a higher purpose – a devout figure were you! Had I not learned of your truth...Had I not been denied salvation by your hand...then my friend, my love, there would be a Firefly worthy to catch, worthy to love.

Now...not even the summer would bring a Firefly.

* * *

_I warned you this story was different. And yes I stuffed around with the timeline and what not, a little. Yep, Seph managed to find a tree in Junon._

_Late entry is late; I have been so busy this year! I still cannot get over the fact that the first entry to this story was written when I was FOURTEEN now I am fifteen and a day away from being sixteen...today if you're in Australia. I actually completed this...five months ago, never had the time to upload it. When I did, however, were the past four days, but I spent those days with my brother holding my hair, if you know what I mean. _

_Anyway, reviews are nice, they keep me in school and what not._


End file.
